


Biological Units

by my_daroga



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_daroga/pseuds/my_daroga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>De charges Leonard with a unique task, but it may not be the one he thinks it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biological Units

**Author's Note:**

> References to "The Changeling." I don't even know what this is, guys. It's just silly! Inspired by of _that look_ Shatner gives _everything_. Un-beta'd and with no redeeming social value.

"I still don't see what this has to do with me," Leonard was saying. De sighed dramatically.

"Look, do I have to go over it again? Justman told me, and now I'm telling you. Bill needs to _relax_." He emphasized the last word like a euphemism. "Everyone's getting distracted, him walking around half-naked all the time and crooning and making eyes at the rocks, and it's costing money. It also looks damn weird on screen. You're his best friend. Take care of it."

Leonard could not believe this was being asked of him. His eyes shifted to the side, but there was no help in the empty air beside Kelley. He half expected Bill to leap out chortling as another brilliant practical joke hit its mark.

"You're his friend, too," Leonard said, buying time and hoping De's answer would dispel the suspicion Leonard was forming.

"I'm married," De said, confirming Leonard's worst fears. "And I'm too old to dick around with you two. Trust me, Bill likes you a lot. He won't mind you taking him yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, this conversation's making me extremely uncomfortable."

De turned and stalked away and Leonard stood there, flabbergasted and terrified and, if he was honest with himself, just a little bit... intrigued.

It was true that Bill had been insufferable lately. "Forgetting" his costume, draping himself over sets and around pillars and generally offering a Bill banquet for anyone who wanted to get in line. Thus far, no one had, and Leonard had decided that this must mean that he had no idea what he was doing. This conclusion had been reached because if Bill Shatner had wanted company, he certainly could have gotten it. Which meant this was him not even trying.

Leonard thought he was beginning to understand what the higher-ups were worried about.

The next day was difficult for Leonard, awash as he was in his newfound knowledge. It started with the usual crude attempts at humor that were Bill's way of trying to get Leonard to break, and didn't he know that Leonard Nimoy didn't get this far just by learning his lines and saying them? The pout Bill gave him when he finally gave up was worse, and almost succeeded in making Leonard laugh. But the makeup people and wardrobe and everyone else were there, so Leonard couldn't broach the subject De had charged him with. He wasn't avoiding it, really.

That morning was yet another scene of the bridge being hit by enemy fire of some type, and Bill kept falling onto Leonard despite the fact it made no physical sense whatsoever and they had to keep redoing the shot. Bill apologized prettily but there was another delay as his shirt had mysteriously ripped just as he'd tumbled into Leonard's lap for the last time, gazing up at him with huge puppy dog eyes before asking--in hushed, halting tones--what was so damned logical about a spaceship without seatbelts. Leonard didn't know how that could possibly be construed as a sexual invitation, but it was.

Leonard was also not avoiding the subject during lunch, because a very important debate about the relative merits of watching "Lost in Space" vs. a dog turd provided by one of Bill's ubiquitous Dobermans was in the offing, and despite the fact that no one was arguing against the dog turd (Jimmy looked somewhat constipated and left mysteriously) it was a riveting discussion. Also, there was pudding and Bill eating pudding was turning out to be extremely distracting. There was no possible way for Leonard to bring up Bill's sex life while he was eating pudding.

Now that he was watching, Leonard had no idea how he could have missed how _gay_ Bill was. Which revelation was quickly followed by the logical corollary that to have made such an observation required Leonard's sexuality to be, at the very least, an open question. Ignoring, of course, the logical conclusion supported by both of their obvious and unfeigned appetites for female company.

Fuck logic. Leonard was sick to death of logic. Bill kept saying "logic" to him at totally inappropriate times, like asking whether it was "logical" for them to have sandwiches when they had hot dogs the day before, or whether logically he should be wearing only a towel around his neck when he called Spock on the monitor thing. Leonard had never understood that anyway. But his treacherous mind was starting to think it wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

Except for how distracting it was. De was right. This needed to be stopped.

But there was still the afternoon's shooting to get through, and while Leonard would not have thought it possible Bill found a way to be _worse_. He had no idea how it was remotely logical for Captain Kirk to be attempting to have sex with an ancient space probe.

Leonard made a mental note not to say "probe" again, even in his mind.

"Why are you NOMAD's 'mother'?" he asked between takes, to distract himself though he was now questioning his decision not to go outside alone for a smoke, since his plan to choose a harmless topic of discussion had been shot to hell by his decision to open his mouth.

Bill stared at him intently. "Did you want to be its mother?" he asked, wide-eyed. "Oh my god, Leonard, I'm so sorry! I mean, I just _assumed_. Because you're taller, and I'm prettier, and you've got that stoic thing going… but that's okay, I'm sure I'd be a great dad, too. We'll just change it. You'll have to shave your legs, though."

The scene started again and he gave the NOMAD prop a decidedly non-parental smile. And the way he was talking to it was starting to make Leonard really uncomfortable. He thought about the talk he was going to have to have with Bill, and what De had asked him to do, and even the embarrassment of knowing De knew what he was going to do didn't stop that treacherous brain of his from going to the places Bill's eyes and voice and coaxing were suggesting. Of course, he was coaxing a robot. But Bill didn't seem to care. De kept shooting him looks, darting his intense blue gaze from Leonard to Bill in a gesture so overt he might as well be pointing and Leonard could only shrug. What the hell was he supposed to have done? Grab Bill and drag him to a broom closet? Turn on him the next time he came up too close behind Spock's science station?

Distracted, he started when a hand landed on his arm, and looked up into the concerned face of Bill. "Hey," Bill said. "You okay? We're all done—wanna grab some grub?"

That, at least, saved Leonard the trouble of asking Bill, and why the hell was this so difficult? Girls were… girls were _easy_, and they weren't generally lolling about in the captain's chair offering themselves up like free puppies. Okay, not unless Bill was there, too, and that was a sight he wished he could have erased from his mind. Now for more than one reason. By the time Leonard had gotten rid of the ears and put on a sweater Bill was in the chair again, one leg flung over the side, the other dangling. He'd changed now, into jeans and a blue button-down shirt and he grinned as Leonard approached.

Everyone else was gone. Leonard felt the calm conferred by the cigarette he'd managed to smoke dissipate.

"Hey," Bill said, and goddammit, he actually _winked_. Leonard couldn't imagine Captain Kirk winking—or lounging around on the bridge in blue jeans—and he certainly couldn't imagine Kirk sitting up, turning, and, poised over the chair with one knee on the seat, wiggling his admittedly shapely bum. "I just bought them. They're new. What do you think?"

Leonard thought they were too tight, but he didn't say so, because to say so would be to admit he'd been staring. "Listen," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "There's something I have to talk to you about."

Bill flopped around and settled, with a bounce, in the chair. The prop squeaked a light protest but Bill merely crossed one leg over the other and peered up at him with avid interest. "I'm all ears, Leonard," which was a perfectly harmless thing to say only the tone and the too-innocent gaze informed him it was anything but. He took the high road.

"You've been acting strange lately," he started, though that wasn't entirely helpful, as Bill was usually strange. "Is everything all right?"

"Of course it is," Bill said softly, still looking up at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Your behavior on set has become ero—erratic," Leonard said, and now he was blushing and that was just ridiculous.

Bill didn't bat an eye. "Has it?" he asked. "I hadn't noticed. Do I seem… not myself, somehow?"

If anything he seemed _more_ himself, but that didn't make any more sense than anything else had, today. "Not exactly. More… keyed up." Leonard paused, waiting for some sign of recognition on Bill's face so he wouldn't have to say it. "Frustrated." He sighed. "Horny."

Bill's face broke into a broad smile, the kind that crinkled his eyes at the edges, which Leonard thought was a really strange reaction. As was his own, which consisted of a strange fluttery sensation in his gut. "Leonard!" Bill cried. "You noticed!"

The next thing he knew, he was bent over the chair and Bill was kissing him, somehow both passionate and hesitant at the same time. Or maybe that part was him. Bill pulled him closer, his arms encircling Leonard as he leaned back, still beaming. "That was nice," he said. "Wanna do it again?"

Leonard did, much to his surprise, though he realized with some part of his brain that he was only telling himself he was surprised to save face. So he kissed Bill back, and suddenly the hesitancy was gone and Bill's fingers were seeking purchase in Leonard's too-short hair and up the back of his sweater. Leonard's own hands had developed a mind of their own: one was wrapped around Bill's upper arm and the other testing the soft flesh of his belly through his shirt. In response, Bill somehow managed to remove it without unbuttoning and with a minimum loss of contact between them. The chair squeaked again as he pulled Leonard down and pulled off his shirt, his hands everywhere and his eyes almost golden in the half-light of the dim soundstage.

"What are we doing?" Leonard asked, his voice hushed.

"I don't know. But I like it."

Leonard paused. "Me too."

And Bill's hands were on his fly, and suddenly he couldn't wait to get his hands on Bill's ass, and when Bill slid out from under him and pressed him back into the captain's chair he didn't protest, just lifted his hips to let Bill slide his pants off. On his way back up Bill stopped halfway and Leonard reflected—while he was still able—that there was something utterly wrong with getting sucked off by Bill Shatner in Kirk's chair. Wrong enough that he didn't last long, and somehow Bill's smirk as he swam back into Leonard's field of vision was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Then there were his hands.

No one had ever touched Leonard there before, and Bill stared intently into his wide eyes until he was sure this was a good thing and Leonard thought it was a very good thing and it was weird that Bill should just _know_ that and have brought baby oil from his dressing room out with him. He found himself responding avidly, surprised and aroused by Bill's gentle eagerness and the last thing he thought for quite some time was that the way he'd looked at NOMAD earlier had nothing on the way he looked now, like this, at him.

*

They were laying together on the floor of the bridge, Leonard on his back with Bill wrapped warmly around him. Leonard thought it was odd that they hadn't just separated, embarrassed and with promises Never to Speak of This Again.

"I've never had sex with my best friend who was also a man before," Bill announced.

"I've never had sex with a man before," Leonard said, glancing sidelong at Bill because he was too tired to sit up and look at him.

"Oh, that's what I meant," Bill said.

"You certainly seemed to know what you were doing," Leonard said incredulously.

"Why shouldn't I? Sex is sex." He felt Bill's eyes on him and turned his head and unexpectedly, Bill's eyes was far more tender than his words suggested. "I mean, not, you know, _just_ sex." The thing was, Leonard realized, it probably never was "just sex" with Bill. Whoever he was with. Not with the joy he saw there. And instead of the embarrassment he thought he should be feeling, Leonard felt it, too. And smiled. "Leonard," Bill said softly. "This is, by far, the most logical thing we have ever done."

For once, Leonard had to agree.

*

"So you thought I was asking you to..." De's voice trailed off as if all his motor skills were being diverted to the rapid blinking of his eyes. "How the hell you to interpret 'relax' to mean... whatever the hell I don't want details of?"

"It was implied," Leonard said defensively, as Bill strolled up and laid an arm across Leonard's shoulder. Must have been standing on something—he did that.

"What was implied?" Bill asked innocently, looking from one to the other.

"I do not need to be here for this," De said, and Bill grinned and reached out to swat him on the ass. "Whatever you did, it didn't work. He's still annoying."

As he stalked away for the second time in as many days, Leonard stared helplessly at Bill, who stared back with infuriating self-composure. "What was he talking about?"

"I... De asked me to... help you relax."

Leonard was somewhat gratified by the startled look on Bill's face. "He asked you to jump me? I'll have to thank him."

"Not exactly." Leonard was going to be honest with himself, even if it meant being honest with Bill. "I think that was my interpretation. Besides, you jumped me."

Bill beamed. "You sweet thing, you!" he said. "Does that mean we're gonna do this again? Because I came prepared today." Leonard didn't know what to say to that besides "yes," and he was pretty sure from Bill's smile that his face had already said it. "But what did he mean about it not working? What was me having gay sex supposed to do?"

"Stop you from doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"That thing! Where you... _look_ at things. People. And talk to them."

"So DeForest Kelley doesn't want me looking at things." Bill looked utterly lost.

"No. Bob Justman doesn't want you looking at things. I mean, _that way_. You know. The way you do."

"No, I don't."

Leonard frowned. "Yes, you do. The way you're looking at me right now. The 'I look forward to having sex with you in the near future' look."

"I'm not even doing it," Bill said. "This is just how I look. Though I _am_ looking forward to having sex with you in the near future. Wait, that's what all this is about? That's what you wanted to talk to me about? Everyone thinks I'm looking forward to having sex with them? Do you think they're looking forward to having sex with me?" He looked around in wonderment. "This is the best show _ever_."

Leonard was, of course, wrong. But even once De figured out where the misunderstanding had come from, he didn't say anything. Why reveal to Leonard that not everyone thought Bill eating pudding or gazing at bushes was the epitome of sex? After all, Bill's absurd behavior was now almost entirely focused on Leonard, who no longer seemed to mind, and as a result everyone on set breathed a little easier.

And got to stop asking themselves where those strange feelings were coming from.


End file.
